


On the surfaces of who i am

by Kroolea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alexsandr Kallus Needs A Hug, Angst, Kallus' parents are messed up, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Neglect, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Parental Hera Syndulla, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kroolea/pseuds/Kroolea
Summary: “You're going to work yourself to death… When was the last time you slept?”“Way too long ago.”
Relationships: AP-5 & Alexsandr Kallus, Alexsandr Kallus & Hera Syndulla
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	On the surfaces of who i am

**Author's Note:**

> I did hours of research to write this, I don't like writing about mental health if I don't know about it/have it but I was reading about Kallus and he seems a little OCD to me. I did some research and decided I would start this and see how it goes. 
> 
> I'm pleased with how it turned out and I hope you enjoy!

It was no secret that AP-5 adored Kallus. Aside from being one of the only ones willing to help him organize crates without complaint, Kallus liked the orderly fashion AP-5 created.

When he first arrived at the rebel base on Yavin IV and was thrust into chaos he kept his cool. The rebels had suffered an awful defeat at the hands of the Empire and had to completely relocate, there was bound to be disorder. But as the weeks turned into months and Kallus quickly realized that there was absolutely no order to the rebels he found a sort of odd comfort in AP-5’s obsessive organization. 

  
  


It was after he realized he spent over ten hours a week organizing and reorganizing papers, crates, weapons, and whatever else AP-5 threw at him, that he realized there might be a problem.

  
  


When he hesitantly told Zeb about it, the Lasat told him he should talk to Hera or Kanan. Kallus did not want to do that whatsoever, but instead he nodded and slowly said he would think about it.

  
  


Kallus didn’t for a few weeks, by now even AP-5 was beginning to lay off on assignments for fear of Kallus overworking himself. Something deep in Kallus began crashing and he began to check his work obsessively, some days he would spend all his free time going over manifests and checking crates.

  
  


That was how Hera found him a few days later. He hadn’t slept well in weeks, his hair was slicked back although he had been wearing it down. Kallus looked up from the manifest he was reading. The ship had been stocked a few hours ago but he had yet to completely put the list down. 

  
  


“AP-5’s worried you might be overworking yourself.” Hera sat herself down on a nearby crate as she spoke. Kallus straightened. 

  
  


“No need for worries, I’m doing wonderful, Captain Syndulla.” He said tersely. Hera raised an eyebrow. 

  
  


AP-5 said-”

  
  


“AP-5 is an inventory droid, not a therapist.” Kallus retorted, Hera didn’t react to the statement.

  
  


The two sat in silence for what felt like an eternity to Kallus but in reality was probably a few minutes. His eyes flickered to the manifest in his hand.

  
  


“How have you been sleeping?” Hera asked, her voice was even, it sounded like his mother’s when she was trying to get an answer out of him. Her voice startled him and he jumped.

  
  


“Fine.” He answered, Hera huffed. 

  
  


“I don’t even have to have the Force to tell that was a lie.” Hera joked, Kallus winced, could Ezra and Kanan even do that? Kallus didn’t know but part of him hoped not.

  
  


“I've been sleeping less, but nothing completely out of the ordinary.” He answered, it wasn't a complete lie.

  
  


She nodded, “Is there a reason AP-5 has told me that you have been more obsessive than he has? And I know I'm not in there all the time but I haven't seen you in the mess hall.”

  
  


Oh, well if that's what the droid had been claiming no wonder Hera was here. He looked at her and sighed a long, tired sigh. 

  
  


“The rebels are nothing like the Empire, they are messy, loud, and unorganized,” he said at last, Hera smiled encouragingly, nodding her head for him to go on. “I’m not really sure how to help.” He admitted. 

  
  


An understanding look crossed Hera’s face. “Have you talked to anyone about this?”

  
  


He shook his head, “It seems fairly minuscule compared to-”

  
  


“Don't compare your problems to others.” She interrupted him before he could finish. “It does little for you. Mon said you mentioned having a history with a few mental illnesses?” When she saw an ashamed look on his face she was quick to reassure him. “No one else knows, she told me because I’m your captain, no one else knows.” 

  
  


He breathed a sigh of relief, he didn't know if he could handle everyone on base knowing about his history. “Yeah, I did… do.” He shrugged. “I was diagnosed when I was a kid.”

  
  


“Do you mind telling me what it was? If not that’s alright too.”

  
  


He hesitated, not many people knew about his diagnosis, he was pretty sure his parents got it removed from his papers when he went into ISB training. 

  
  


“I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder when I was eight.” He said stiffly. A stunned look crossed her face only to be covered up. 

  
  


“Eight? That’s pretty young.” She stated, he shrugged again.

  
  


“My parents thought there might be something wrong with me so they took me to a doctor, who told them my obsession with cleaning my bookshelf and my need for perfection was a flaw.”

  
  


Hera looked pained. “That's nothing to tell a child. Eight? That seems so young.” She breathed in disbelief.

  
  


“Anyways, I did therapy until ISB training, my parents got rid of the diagnosis, probably to hide the fact that I was messed up. In the Empire, those traits are praised and I was able to fit in. But now… I guess it was worse than I thought.”

  
  


Hera looked deep in thought. “You should see one of the therapists on base, I went to one of them and now he’s a good friend.” Kallus couldn’t imagine Hera seeing a therapist, she was so collected all the time, but he knew war did something to a person inside that couldn’t be seen outside.

  
  


“I might.” Hera smiled at him in… gratitude? Kallus didn't know why she was grateful for him going to a therapist but he didn't understand a lot about Hera.

  
  


He didn’t go see a therapist. 

  
  


It was nearly a month later when Hera came and visited him again that she realized something was really, really wrong.

  
  


AP-5 was on a mission with Ezra and Zeb when she wandered into the inventory to find Chopper. Kallus was in the corner… was he writing the manifests by hand?

  
  


“AP-5 said not to do the manifests until he got back.” She put her hands on her hips. He startled and looked up at her.

  
  


“I’m just… I needed something to do.” He said. She frowned. 

  
  


“Have you seen a therapist.” His flinch told her everything she needed to know.

  
  


“You're going to work yourself to death… When was the last time you slept?”

  
  


“Way too long ago.” He answered bitterly. She took the paper from his hands and set it down elsewhere.

  
  


“Alright, it is bedtime for Kallus.” She said firmly, using her “captain voice”. He frowned. 

  
  


“But-”

  
  


“But nothing, come on.” She pushed him out of the room. “When was the last time you left this room?”

  
  


He mumbled an answer, she froze. 

  
  


“Three days?! Alexsandr Kallus!” Now she was using what Zeb called her “mom voice” Kallus decided it was a thousand times more terrifying than her captain voice.

  
  


Before he could form a coherent answer, Kanan had approached him, questions written all over his face. “Hera, what’s wrong?” He asked, she was watching Kallus in shock. 

  
  


“He hasn't left that inventory in three days!”

  
  


“Oh. Sorry about this one, Kallus. I can't save you from this.” He said sheepishly. Kallus gave him a glare despite the fact that the man probably didn’t catch it.

  
  


Hera managed to get him on the _Ghost_ and opened a door to a very bright and decorated room. “Sabine uses this room to try designs before she puts them on anything. Luckily, you won't have to stare at them for long because I'm turning off the light.” He sat down on the bunk, at this point he was too ashamed and too tired to fight her. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, Captain-” To his dismay and horror he felt tears of frustration fill his eyes

  
  


“No apologies. No…” She trailed off as she saw the tears. “Oh, Kallus… We didn’t do a good job of helping you adjust. I’m truly sorry about that.” She said softly, almost more to herself than to him. 

  
  


He didn’t say anything but he felt betrayed as more tears fell down his cheeks. He hadn't let himself cry in years so as nearly five years of tears fell he heard Hera’s voice. 

  
  


“Can I give you a hug?” She asked, he gave a single nod and felt her hug him. 

  
  


He felt like a child that had scraped his knee. He understood why many recruits were drawn to Hera like a moth to the light. She helped fill a void many of them were missing.

  
  


For him, it was a void that hadn't been filled since he was eight years old, still a child. Since a doctor's blunt words made him grow up overnight.

Since his parents stopped treating him like a child and more like a mistake. 

  
  


Nearly ten minutes had passed when she finally pulled away. “I’m going to let you sleep now. I'll wake you up in time for dinner. Sleep well.” She turned off the light as his mother used to when she tucked him into bed.

  
  


For the first time in months, he had a dreamless sleep.


End file.
